Read about Ron & Viv's journey so far - Kazakhstan.
We came across this great little roadside stall selling kebabs, vodka & beer, along with tea. Run by two young brothers - Sag' (he youngest) spoke pretty good English and as we stopped welcomed us in English.
The roads were pretty awful. When we had bitumen you spent most of your time dodging enormous potholes, and when the bitumen finally got so bad and turned to utter shit, you left the road with everyone else and choose one of the many sandy, dusty side tracks.
Road north of Aral is nothing more than a choice of tracks across desert.
We stayed overnight in a hotel in Turkistan and our vehicles were of much interest to some of the local young boys.
As we came into Shymkent we met Vitaliv Aliev. He was very generous with his time and took us to the Immigration Police.
Kazak nomad cattlemen are famed horsemen - and friendly.
We meet up with the local ARB lads who were extremely helpful in doing some repairs and service to the trucks, as well as acting as guides and taking us up the cable car to the top of Green Hill and then for a drive up the mountains past the Chimbulak ski resort.
After the canyon, we headed to the man-made dam at Bartoghay, where you could watch the water spewing out of the two sluice chuts in a thick arching plume of water – very impressive.
Camp was back on the dam.
As we continued the countryside became greener and more pleasant.
Harvesting the huge fields of grain/grass with the Chinese Border just over the mountains.
The last town and a chance go get rid or what Kazak money we had left. These young lads were keen to sell us yet another watermelon.
21st July to 5th August 2008KAZAKHSTAN
Kazakhstan - A surprise package!!
Occasionally when you are travelling – whether up in the mountains of Victoria, in the desert around Alice Springs or wherever your adventures take you – you come across some unknown or unheard of place that knocks your socks off, wows you to your core and blows your mind. Well, we've found one this trip – and it is Kazakhstan.
Now tell the truth, until Borat came along had you ever heard of the Republic of Kazakhstan? We'd got to say right from the start though; Borat has done Kazakhstan a gross injustice!
After Moscow, it was just great to get into the Patrol and drive out off the secure carpark and head out onto the road once more for the long run south to the Kazak border. Trucks, buses, crazy car drivers and a rough and rolling bitumen road, along with the odd police check point meant in was never a boring drive. Luckily, with a bit of effort, each evening we found bush camps off the road a short distance to give us a break from the sheer mayhem.
Northern Kazakhstan - treeless steppe
The Russian/Kazakhstan border though was just a plain hassle; not just for us but for the locals as well, so we joined the queues at 10 am, and chattered to the mainly friendly people who were in exactly the same boat. The borders took 8 hours - no real problem once we were in, just a very slow process of filling in forms, again. By late aftenoon we were through and in Kazakhstan and looking for somewhere to camp. We chose one with a sweeping view over a vast area of grass and crop covered steppe with the only trees in sight being those around the occasional farmhouse or village, or planted in rows along the side of the road. It was a scene that remained with us for the next six days of travel.
It is these steppes though that have helped form the history and culture of Central Asia. This was the great natural factory that fuelled the great horse carried armies of the warrior clans of Attila the Hun, Jenghiz (Genghis) Khan and others who in their age formed some of the greatest empires the world has ever seen, their boundaries stretching from China west to eastern Europe and from southern Russia, across Siberia to northern India, Iraq and Syria.
Modern Kazakhstan is a big country in anyone's language, even those used to traveling around Australia – it's the ninth biggest in the world with just 15 million people. It's rich with oil, gas and minerals while phenomenal areas of steppe have been put under wheat. The paddocks are huge with not a fence to be seen, while the tractors and harvesters that work them are old and hark back to the Soviet era.
Our first city was Oral, or Ural'sk, where we found an autobank and a supermarket. We also managed to find a water point and fill up our water tanks. As we headed out off town we crossed the Ural River – the dividing point like the Ural Mountains that separate Europe from Asia. It had been obvious we had been heading more and more into Asia with the looks of the people and the mosques that dominated each and every town. We were stopped by the police who were more interested in where we came from and our vehicles than anything else. The same happened further down the road when we were pulled over at a police checkpoint. They were happy enough and without showing any paperwork we were on our way again.
It was becoming quickly apparent that the locals were a lot more friendly than the Russians. People had gone out of their way to talk to us and help us at the border, many waved to us as we drove by, smiled, blew their car horns and generally made it known they were happy to see us. I mean we had friendly Russian people too – but they were very much in the minority! Maybe the Ruskies have been told to be careful with, and not to trust foreigners!!!!
It was also clear that there is a lot less rubbish around than in Russia.
Our route headed south and then east through good farming country . This was the region where old Khrushchev, as president of the then super power of the USSR during the 1950s and 60s decided that Kazakhstan would be where he would transform this northern ‘barren' region into 250,000sq km of wheat fields. Bugger the consequences and of course, it wasn't a great success, but the ploughed fields are here to stay. So are the old tractors and harvesters although we did see a couple of new harvesters at one place. Mind you the environmental price of this was small fry compared of what we were heading to just down the road!
East of the town of Zhympity the roadworks began and the road turned to chopped up and rough dirt. We dodged and zig-zagged our way on and at a dog-leg of a cross roads stopped to have lunch where two young fellows had set up a roadside stall. Sagyndyk Kalniyazov (C/- PO Liebedevka Village, Chingirlau Region, West Kazakhstan, Mob: 8 777 182 82 87) and his older brother were running a bit of a shelter out of the back of their Lada Niva. Sag' spoke pretty good English and as we stopped he welcomed us in English. He offered us Chia (tea) and kebabs and then we found out he also had beer and vodka in a cooler. It was a done deal. Rod, Neil, Gay and I had a big lamb kebab each (with bred and onion and sauce), the girls had a large pot of tea, Rod and I had a beer and it cost us $20. It was expensive but what the hell it was great to help these young fellows out.
Then it was rough bitumen for most of the remainder of the trip and it was slow and frustrating going – not as bad as an African – or more correctly a Kenyan road – but it was getting there!
As we headed south the country became much drier and crops gave way to grazing land. About 60km south of Qarabutaq the road turned to crap and we slowed to a crawl as we dodged potholes and gutters. It was a pain!
The weather has been quite hot and without the air-conditioner working (again!!) it gets pretty hot inside the cab, so the odd down pour of rain in the afternoon has been most welcome.
Kazakhstan is basically as flat as a pancake, except for the strings of mountains along its southern and eastern borders (like around Almarty). The country, or Steppes, up north, where we entered, is flat and as far as the eye can see, cultivated with grain crops and the like. It went for thousands of miles, irrigated by a couple of Kazaks big rivers (which has almost destroyed them, like the Aral Sea). When the irrigation ran out, the countryside was dusty and arid, until you reached an area once again cultivated and the grain fields began once again. Oh, they also seem to grow millions of watermelons, and you constantly pass little road side stalls selling them. We past through lots of villages, of all sizes, and through a few major cities.
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Southern Kazakhstan - the Old Silk Road
The most Kazak part of KazakhstanAralisk
The Aral Sea, which was our destination, is really no more. What was once the fourth biggest lake in the world was sacrificed back in the 1960s to Soviet propaganda and a desire by the powers that be to turn vast areas of the desert steppe into irrigated land to grow cotton. It ranks as the world's greatest man-made environmental disaster with the lake drying up. In 1987 it split into two and the great fishing ports of Aralsk and Moynaq (in neighboring Uzbekistan) were left hundreds of kilometers from the water. The climate around the once great lake also changed, becoming hotter and drier; wind blown dust storms brought a variety of health problems to the people, fishing stopped, while the wildlife of the great river deltas that had once fed the lake were devastated (see: www.cawater-info.net for more info).
We found the town of Aralsk a dusty, tired place, although the market where we stopped to buy our supplies for the next few days was a lively affair and a testimony to the people's toughness and strong desire to stay where they called home. Down at the harbour though a few derelict boats were laid up, high and dry, while the great cranes that once loaded and unloaded the ships that called here stood stark and unused along what was once the waterline. All the buildings around the wharves were abandoned and empty, their faded interiors a reminder of what once had been.
Pushed on south and then east, through the irrigated fields of the Syr Darya River. It didn't look like the system was very efficient and the fields were growing a lot of grass and thick beds of reeds. In places there were channels that hadn't seen water for many years while other channels were nearly completed clogged with reeds. Old tractors had PTO pumps that were shifted around to pump water into a particular field or small channel.
Away from any of the irrigated areas, it was dry and rolling flat desert country with just a thin covering of scrub – much like our desert country near Woomera in SA.
We passed through the town of Kyzylorda, which looked a little different – it turned out to be the main town for the Baykonur Cosmodrome , or launch station which is located about 30 km south.
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Turkistan
Past Qyzlorda we continued southeast across flat country where once you were away from the irrigated fields it was dry desert country – like Oz - to the large town of Turkistan , along what was once the Old Silk Road.
We found our way to the Mosque and mausoleum of Kozha Akhmed Yasaui, the first great Turkic Muslim holy man and an important pilgrim site that attracts between 2,000 and 10,000 people every day. Three visits here equals one to Mecca by all accounts! It is also a World Heritage Listed site and a very impressive structure. Built in the 14 th Century by Timur, a Khan or ‘king' of the Kazak people, this area is basically the birthplace of the Kazak people and the country, which was once much bigger, although the place has been a pilgrimage site for long before that. We had a good guide who could speak pretty good English - Arman Baikadom (ph: 8701 988 1034; email: armanbaikadom@hotmail.com ) who took us around the site. He was very friendly and helpful and ended up helping us find a hotel for the night and the next morning he did he absolute best to help us get ‘registered', but without any luck.
We left Turkistan, minus registration stamp, and as we passed out of town there was a fine tree-lined boulevard and then a great monument to the Old Silk Road – it was a beauty! From there we headed east along the main road. The irrigated country just east of the city looked like it was much better maintained with crops of corn, melons, tomatoes, potatoes and more being grown. Away from the irrigation the countryside was no longer arid but growing crops such as wheat. As we headed east the country became more undulating with crops growing in vast stretches of countryside - and it was very pleasant to drive through.
The road was pretty good although the bitumen was repaired a lot and we rocked and rolled along the M32 at about 80-90kph. There was a bit of traffic around. We only got pulled up by one police check point and they wanted some US dollars but we played dumb and just kept handing them one form after another. With Rod and Kate they said their vehicles were too dirty and we must wash them – for US$50! They were pretty low key at asking for money though and we were soon on our way. We passed through a few other checkpoints but the coppers weren't interested in us.
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Shymkent
Our next stop was Shimkent (Shymkent) - another city that was on the Old Silk Road. Today it is a rich and prosperous and expanding city with over a million people. We were lucky enough to be approached by Vitaliv Aliev (ph:8701 372 2252; email: vit777@bk.ru ) as we stood on the side of the main road into Shymkent trying to figure out how we could get to find the Immigration Police for yet another go at getting that registration stamp. Vitaliv owned a well set up Toyota Surf, is a keen four wheeler, in the local 4wd club and an auto spare parts saleman. He was very generous with his time and took us to the Immigration Police. We thought we were in luck as there were a couple of Americans and Europeans there but once again we got to the office and were turned away as ‘they didn't have the authority to process foreigners' ! From there we started to head out of town but Vitaliv stopped at a small café where we had lunch of rice and beef and pots of delightful tea. The meal was called 'plov' - rice with meat, onions, carrots, raisins & chickpeas all cooked up in a hemispherical cauldron called a 'kazan' – and this meal was topped with very tender shreds of lamb. Vitaliv continued with his help and guided us out of town and onto the road to Almaty, but not before he replaced our blown headlight globe with one of his own from his vehicle. You must have your headlights on in Kazak, and you don't want to give the police any excuse to pull you over and fine you.
It's people like Vitaliv who you meet along the way, not to mention all the other people who have helped us, who make travel such a wonderful experience and make up for some the stress that you get at times travelling through strange countries where you don't speak the language.
We found another bush camp on the grassy plains and rolling fields – we've managed to find bush camps each night (when we haven't been in a hotel) and haven't had any problems. Like this camp - Dardin' was a cattlemen who rode up to our camp on his horse with his friendly scrawny dog to get a drink of water from the spring nearby. We talked to him and with a bit of sign language had a conversation for 15 minutes or so. We explained we were tourists and he said he had 100 head of cattle. We gave him some meat and bread and few cigarettes and took a few pics before he headed off to his mob which looked more like 200-300 head than 100. In the morning what we had seen from a distance proved to be a mixed herd of sheep, goats and cattle – so he probably did have 100 head of cattle, just a lot more other animals.
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Almarty
We continued on the next morning on the lumpy bitumen road towards Almaty, thinking that by driving into this large city on a Sunday the traffic would be so much better. How wrong could be be. The traffic around the flea market of 'Barakholka' on the north-western outskirts of town is one hell of a popular place to be. This crowded flea market is where Uzbeks, Chinese, Uyghrs and others converge to sell everything from animals, fridges and carts to fur hats, jeans and shoes, at very good prices – Sunday morning being the busiest time – would have hated to drive past it them, it was bad enough at 5.00pm!!!
Somehow we managed to find the Hotel Kazzhol in the centre of town which we'd picked out of the guide book as our choice of accommodation and got rooms – a bit more expensive though at US$160 a night – apparently ‘there were no budget rooms available'. Heard that before, still the rooms weren't bad and there was wi-fi internet access in the adjoining hotel (part of the Kazzhol hotel).
This is a very large city and was once the capital of Kazakhstan until the President decided a few years ago to move it to Astana, further north. It's quite a nice city, as far as cities go, with lots of large, leafy green trees lining the busy roads.
We made contact the with ARB store based here and the people there couldn't have been more helpful. ARB Kazakhstan is just west of the centre of the city at 296-A, Tole be Street (GPS 43°14'44”N 76°51'19”E); ph: +7 7273-150-102, -103, -105. It has a well set-up workshop and store and the guys and girls there are fantastic. There was another long distance overlander there getting his 80 Series repaired – it is the place to go. If they can't fix it they will know where to take it!
ARB manager: Alexander Podporin, Email: alexander_podporin@arb.kz
Alexander, our main contact there, also acted as a host and guide for us and took us up the cable car to the top of the Green Hill, overlooking the city, and then a 4WDrive up into the mountains through the Malaya Almatinka valley to the Chimbulak ski resort - at 2300m it is Central Asia's top skiing centre. We went from 36°C down in the town centre, to 16°C up the mountain. It was very beautiful with stark, rugged mountain peaks, and a little snow still on the very top of some.
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Around Almarty
The boys spent some time at ARB getting some repairs and servicing work done, while Ron spent most of one day going backwards and forwards to 6 different air-condition specialists trying yet again to fix the air-conditioner that is no longer working. All had different ideas and theories why it wasn't working, but no one had any solutions or could fix it. It was a long, hot, tiring and fruitless day in the end for him.
On the Wednesday morning Alex from ARB had organized to take us to some of his favourite spots in the mountains, just out of Almaty. We meet up with him and his delightful family (wife Oxsana and young 3 boys) at ARB and then headed out.
Headed out of town in convoy and stopped about 20km out for fuel and some watermelon. Picked up the road south of the A351 but turned off it and drove parellel to it for some distance. Basically followed the Qonaey Alundaghy Canal eastwards on a minor bitumen road that was along the foothills of the range and which gave a good view over the valley and the many irrigated fields along the valley.
Stopped for lunch at about 2.30 in a small A351 roadside café – had dumplings and laghman like dish but it was not like a soup – tasted good though.
Just before you get to the small town of Esik you begin to see what is burial mounds dotted across the plain. It was near here that the ‘ Golden Man' was found in 1969 and he has become the official unofficial symbol and mascot of the country since then. He dates from the 5 th century BC and you see statues and photos of him near everywhere. There is a replica of his golden suit in the national museum, while the real deal is unknown but most say he is with the president. A new museum is being built near Esik so maybe he will end up there.
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Charyn Canyon
Headed on and 172km east from Almaty we turned onto a lesser used bitumen road and continued for another 25km or so before turning left (GPS 43°20'49”N 78°55'44”E) onto a dirt track for the short drive to the entrance gate (GPS 43°21'43”N 79°02'51”E) to Charyn (Sharyn) Canyon, which most of the locals call, the Mini Grand Canyon . Well, it is certainly a ‘mini' Grand Canyon, but it was pretty good. Went to a couple of lookouts and places where a walking trail leads down into the canyon a short distance. A 4WD track passes through the canyon – the turn off to that being a few hundred metres inside the entry gate.
(Charyn Canyon – the Charyn River, flowing rapidly down from the Tian Shan, has carved a 150m to 300 m deep canyon into the othersie flat and barren steppe some 200km east of Almaty. There is free overnight camping, but it costs around 208T per person to enter the canyon area.)
The Patrol was overheating badly and it was a pain. It had been a hot day and with a head wind it had been working hard but it was still running too hot!
Headed back along the maid road and then took the turn off at a junction (GPS 43°26'59”N 78°40'12”E) which took us south along a thin rough strip of bitumen to the man-made dam at Bartoghay . It was about 6pm by this stage but we got permission from the warders in charge of the dam to go thru' the gate, then thru the tunnel to the river below the dam wall (GPS 43°22'35”N 78°29'28”E) where there was some good views and you could walk across the river on a swinging suspension bridge. Water was spewing out of the sluice chute in a thick arching plume of water. So much spray was being generated that where the river went around a bed just below the dam wall a micro habitat of trees and greenery had sprung up. We took a few pics and checked out the fisherman who were fishing just a short distance downstream. This is only a day use area so we had to return back thru the tunnel and gate.
About 400 metres east of the gate we turned down towards the water of the dam which was well down on full. Found our ‘ Dam Camp' at (GPS 43°22'00”N 78°30'41”E), just 50 metres from the water's edge. By now it was after 8pm and while it was cool we set up camp while Alex and his wife, Oksana (or Oxana) with their three boys set up camp and got a fire going to get tea on the go. He used a special wood he had brought to make the small fire, over which he cooked some very tasty shashlyk. We also ended up consuming half of a huge watermelon which was a nice refreshing finish to the meal. We ended up eating about 9.30 and we called it quits after 11pm!
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Asse Valley High Plains Trek
From our camp we picked up the blacktop and headed east a short distance and then turned south onto a dirt road (GPS 43°22'21”N 78°32'08”E). This road is marked on the ITM Kazak map. Where the river came out of the ranges a strong wind was also blowing and lifting a great plume of dust high into the air from the dried up silt where the dam water's had dropped. We crossed the Shilik River just above the dam on a low bridge. There were a group of rafters just finishing a trip packing up there.
The trail climbs steadily from there it being very dry and barren mountain desert country down low. As we climbed higher and got above 1200 metres a green tinge appeared on the slopes of the hills and ranges. Above us the mountains got higher and became clothed in stands of pine trees . At one spot at about 1500 metres we stopped when Rod's F250 suddenly boiled and blew a top. We had a brew while it cooled and filled it with water and pushed on – it seemed okay after that – mine was still getting hot!
Stopped on a ridge line at about 1700 metres where a sprin g was running crystal clear water into a few stock troughs. A nomad was there with his flock of sheep, goats and a few cattle and his wife was filling up small containers of water to take back to their camp was a short distance away.
As we continued the countryside became greener and more pleasant. We passed a homestead – looked a bit like there were a few hunters in for a hunt. Shortly afterwards we came to a top section of the Asse with a fine stream running through it - (GPS 43°19'28”N 78°17'23”E). Over the next few km there were a number of good spots to camp. We crossed the stream at (GPS 43°18'51”N 78°10'12”E) and then stopped for a long lunch and afternoon break right beside the river, on a flat piece of grassy verge just below a low cliff at (GPS 43°18'34”N 78°08'41”E). This Top Stream Camp was where Neil and Rod set up camp for a couple of nights while I headed into town to see if I could get the Patrol running better.
The Asse Valley is a beautiful, broad valley, east of Almaty, and is used heavily by the nomadic Kazaks as a summer pasture. We saw numerous ‘gers' the traditional felt tent of the nomad with a small coral for their stock nearby, dotted across the hills. Most of the flocks of sheep with a few goats and the occasional cow were quite large numbering in excess of 500 or more. Some of the mobs of horses we saw were in their 20;s and 30's.
As we headed west we continually climbed and crossed the ridge at the highest point of the trip – 2575 metres (over 8000 feet). There's some great views of the main range – the Tian Shans – as you do this latter section of the drive. The road improved from here and we dropped down into another similar valley that had a lot less stock – as if it was being rested. Even so saw one young nomad – about 7 years old – riding his horse and in charge of quite a big mob of sheep and goats.
The strange spaceship like structure jutting above the hills is an astronomical observatory - it seems way out of place when you consider the age-old nomadic lifestyle that is the predominant feature of this high country.
At what we called Pine Stream (GPS 43°13'39”N 77°50'00”E), the road improves again while a pleasant stretch of stream beckons for a camp.
From here the route tracks north following a turbulent crystal clear mountain stream through a short but spectacular gorge before coming to a small village. Here the road turned to pot-holed bitumen while the stream was joined by a much wilder, stained dull red with mud stream. Just a short distance down from here a beautiful spring feeds cold fresh water for all to use. It was delightful!
The narrow winding road crosses the muddy stream a number of times and there are a number of places to stop for an overnight camp or a picnic. You pass the well set-up tourist Stetson Ranch (a dude ranch – Kazak style) then pass through a road barrier before getting to a major road junction that you would have passed on the way up (GPS 43°23'13”N 77°34'23”E). Your Asse Valley Trek is complete and what a trip it is!
The Karkara Valley just over the ranges to our south is similar and is an age old summer pasture for herds from both sides of what's now the Kazakhstan-Kyrgyzstan border. The river forms the border for some 40km before heading north to join the Kegan River, beyond which is becomes the Charyn.
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Heading North to the Russian Border
Viv and I headed back to Almaty to try and get the cooling problem fixed on the Patrol, while the others stayed out at Top Stream Camp and after a day at ARB we were keen to get out off town. While in Armaty we met up with a few competitors in the Mongul Rally ; (Jamie (yellow T-shirt), Tom (Red) and James (Grey) who were overlanding from the UK in a 22-year old Fiat Panda ! They were doing it for charity – see www.mongolrally.com/3wisemongols - and had left London 13 days ago!! We were to meet a few more of the 300 competitors of this year's rally – it's 5 th year as we headed back into Russia and into Mongolia. It's all for charity; the plan is firstly to raise a 1000 quid, buy a cheap vehicle under a 1000cc, then to drive that from London, Madrid or Milan to Ulaan Bataar the capital of Mongolia, leave the vehicle there in so the charity can sell it and raise money.
When we left our hotel we tried to go to the museum to see the ‘Golden Man' but parking was a problem, police were on every corner (don't know why?) and we soon got sick of all that and headed out off town. We got lost but found our way eventually onto the A350 which leads north out off the city to the border.
Found our way to the bridge (and a police check-point) as we crossed the Lie River just below the very large Qapshag Reservoir. It's doesn't seem to be deep but covers a vast area and near the road there are irrigated fields, heavy industry and tourist resorts all amongst one another. The town of Qapshaghay has seen better days though and tourism seems to be where it future lies. We stopped about 1km north of the bridge and dam and waited for Neil, Helen, and Gay and Rod and Kate to catch up with us.
It was a very hot afternoon with a strong head wind for much of the way. There were many cars, a few trucks and the odd bus pulled over with a boiling radiator. The Patrol too struggled. Pulled off the road about 305km north of Almaty and camped behind a thin screen of trees on the edge of a very dusty paddock. Our Dusty Camp (GPS 44°14'05”N 78°31'41”E) was okay for a night but that was about all – the strong hot northerly wind that was blowing all day didn't help with the dust!
Next morning we passed thru the biggish town of Sarqan which is surrounded with irrigated fields – the mountains rearing up just to the east and in the background the mighty peaks of the Alatau Zhotasy Mountains which form the border between Kazakhstan and China. In places these peaks are well over 16,000 feet high and are snow capped all year – no wonder the streams that come out of the hills near to the highway are running strongly with silt laden water.
Morning tea was in or around the small village of Qaraboget with its irrigated fields surrounding it, rich pasture fields close by and a backdrop of snow clad mountains with China just 30 km or so away.
Crossed the great chain of lakes that sprawl across north-eastern Kazakhstan just below Lake Sasyqkol where the river that feeds these great expanses of water enters a vast marsh. The huge Lake Balqash stretches a very long way from just west of here and is a great fishing area. It seemed strange to be driving thru what is close to desert country and have little wayside stalls, out in the middle of nowhere, selling fish! We didn't stop to see what the fish was like!
North of here we met up with a group of Spanish 4wheelers who were part of the Mongul Rally; they were in two old little Suzukis. Later we passed thru the outskirts of the town of Ayakoz which is a biggish town on the railway and a military base. It has passed its heyday though and there were many bricked up apartment blocks, crumbly warehouses, broken down machinery, empty high-fenced yards and rusty long unused lifting cranes.
Stopped at The Windy Rocks Camp (GPS 48°41'41”N 80°43'14”E). which was about 5km off the main road and about 1km off the dirt road we had followed west. It was a pleasant enough spot (when we first got there) with cut pasture on the flats and rocky hills all around. It wasn't too windy either - the breeze just refreshingly cool. That night though the wind changed direction and battered us for 4 or 5 hours. We were all up early and on the road by 6.15! In fact we were up at 4.30am to pack up the rooftop before it was shredded with the wind and spent an hour or so in the car before the others also packed up.
As we got closer to the city of Semey , the countryside began to improve. Drove into this once prosperous industrial city that has fallen on hard times since the country has got independence. Stopped at a fuel outlet and filled up – what a debacle! My fuel was switched off 3 times and only because I wrote each one down on my hand did I pay the right amount fairly easily. Not so Neil. He had a devil's own job getting it right – which affected all of us – as they wanted us to fix up the bill!
Crossed the Ertis River on the new Japanese funded suspension bridge and tried to find a shop to buy some water and a few goodies. It was a bit of a battle, but we finally found a small supermarket along the main road – still in the town - that had G&T, beer, bread, water and a few other goodies. A few young lads and an older girl were trying to sell melons out the front of the shop – we took pics of them and gave them some money – they had tried so hard to sell us their melons!
Then we were stopped at a police check point and got an officious bastard who told Rod and I that the tinting on our front side windows was illegal and that it must be removed. After much tooing and froing and frustration on both sides we were waved away and told to head for the border. By all accounts tinting is illegal in Kazakhstan, Russia and Mongolia.
It was spitting with rain on and off and we cruised on picking a dirt track about 70km north of Semey that headed east across some cleared land to the forest. Wound our way past the pines and found a well protected spot about 2km from the main road. Our Pines2 Camp (GPS 50°47'51”N 80°53'47”E) was tucked into the forest and we set up. We had a visitor – he was the ‘Inspector of Forest' and he was in his Lada Niva and showed me his pass and we had a bit of a yarn. He was friendly enough and smiled and let us stay the night.
Neil's truck had blown a fuse and on checking why we discovered his RH rear suspension had broken and had crushed the wiring. Of more importance was how to fix the broken spring hanger. We couldn't so we decided we'd push on across the highway and get to the nearest town and try and fix it.
Next day we crossed the border back into Russia – it taking just 3.5 hours!
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Registration: when you enter Kazakhstan, you get a ‘Migration Card to the Passport' which you fill in and which gets stamped at the border. You then have 5 days to register again. This can be done at hotels (or so the guide book said) and by the immigration police in the towns. Having said that, we tried our very hardest to get that other stamp, we talked to the police in Aral who said we had to go to Turkistan; we tried at the hotel in Turkistan (couldn't do it) and then the immigration police who wouldn't do it and said we must go to Shymkent. We went to the immigration police in Shymkent who said no, we must go to Almaty – 6 days drive for us from entering the country. We did finally get our stamp in Almaty at the hotel where we stayed, but at first, because we were over the 5 days the hotel said we would have to go to the immigration police which we really didn't want the hassle of doing.
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Link to Picture Gallery Page for Kazakhstan.
In northern Kazak the fields stretch away to the horizon and all you can see is grain fields!!! Old Harvesters worked the fields just down from our camp for the night.
Two guys in a horse and cart loaded with grass.
Across the steppes in southern Kazakhstan - the old Silk Road passed through here.
We stopped at Aral'sk and found our way into the market place that was still pretty busy even though it was about 11am. Brought some fresh fruit and vegetables.
Down by what had once been the edge of the Aral Sea and a busy fishing port. Now dry as a bone, with old cranes, disused factories and a couple of old fishing vessels all that left to show for what was once a very prosperous town.
Turkistan and the Mosque and mausoleum of Kozha Akhmed Yasaui, the first great Turkic Muslim holy man.
A monument to the Old Silk Road – it was a beauty!
The girls buying watermelons from the side of the road (they are everywhere).
A camp in the desert – no hiding here.
The large city of Almaty was our next stop. It sits at the bottom of the Malaya Almatinka Valley and amongst the Tian Shan mountains.
Alex (from ARB) and his wife, Oxsana and kids took time out to take us out into the mountains for a couple of days and show us some of their favourite country. Our first stop was the Charyn (Sharyn) Canyon – an impressive mini Grand Canyon.
A nomad \with his flock of sheep, goats and a few cattle and his wife – their camp was a short distance away.
We came to a top section of valley with a fine stream running through it.
The UK Mongul Rally boys with their 22-year old Fiat Panda!
(Click on image to enlarge.)
Our ‘windy' camp – a peaceful place in the evening before the wind storm hit.
A typical street in a Russian village, this one we passed as we headed towards the border.
